Resurrection
by alexb49
Summary: Some speculation as to Desmond's fate post ACB.  "Good God.  What have they done to him?"  Some Shaun/Desmond if you squint hard enough.  Implications of violence.


A/N Contains some vague spoilers for ACB and the DaVinci Disappearance DLC. Some Shaun/Desmond if you squint hard enough

* * *

"Good god. What have they done to him?"

This voice sounded familiar to Desmond but he couldn't quite place it. Too many faces through too many centuries flooded him all at once as he awakened. Sounding full of revulsion didn't help him identify the man either.

Desmond tried to open his eyes but they felt heavy. It was too painful to blink; his eyelids were glued shut worse than after the sandstorms in Jerusalem.

"C'mon, focus!" Another voice he should have known –female this time- called out in reprimand. "We don't have much time."

Time for what? Drugs in his system made thinking way too fuzzy. Eyes forced themselves open, but things were still blurry like they weren't used to working on their own.

"He's awake!" The vaguely male outline came closer, anxious man becoming a little clearer. Glasses on the guy's face. Somehow, somewhere, he knew glasses but the blond hair with hint of reddish scruff threw him off. "Desmond! Can you hear me?"

There was a small struggle to undo his restraints but with difficulty the man worked them open. When was the last time they had been undone?

"Don't worry," Leonardo whispered to him, sounding as if he were failing to listen to his own advice. "We'll have you out of here in no time."

Not Leonardo. Shaun.

This was Shaun.

When had Shaun dyed his hair? Desmond wrinkled his nose at it. He much preferred the natural color.

Uttering a small 'sorry!', Shaun didn't notice any of this as he pulled the catheter from a vein. Next was a rush of disconnecting all sorts of tubes and wires but the man hesitated when he traced the last one to somewhere under Desmond's shirt.

"Ugh!" The woman again. She looked up from behind a computer screen to stare at what Shaun had found. Rebecca. Her name was Rebecca, though her hair was much shorter than he remembered and… there was a freshly healed scar down the side of her face. "What the hell is _that_?"

"It's… it's a feeding tube." He could hear Shaun gag. "I can't… can't believe that they'd be so desperate, so _monstrous_-" Suddenly Shaun's whole demeanor changed. "Will you hurry up, woman? The sooner we get out of here the better!"

Well, this was definitely Shaun. Rebecca started to become more and more familiar as he watched her clattering away at a keyboard.

Something was missing though. Shaun, Rebecca, and… and…

His head was throbbing.

"It's done!" Rebecca crowed. "Nobody gets to use _this_ Animus ever again." She looked troubled. "Now what? I don't know if he can-"

"I'll carry him," Shaun answered immediately.

"Carry him?" Rebecca echoed Desmond's thoughts out loud. "Seriously?"

Shaun gave the woman a pointed glare. "Do you have any other suggestions?"

"I'm right here!" shouted Desmond.

Or at least he tried to, but his throat was dry and dusty with disuse and his vocal chords only managed a hoarse croak.

"What's wrong?" Shaun asked, searching Desmond's face for signs of trouble.

Desmond reached out a reassuring hand and-

Jesus Christ, was that his hand?

Pale. So pale, like he hadn't seen the light of day in a long time. And skeletal; the skin was hanging right off of him. His forearm… there was nothing. No muscle. None at all.

No.

He started to struggle, desperate to see what had happened to the rest of him.

But he hadn't the strength to rise from the chair.

Panic chilled him to the marrow of his bones.

When was the last time he had been out of this chair? He tried to think back and-

And…

And he had no idea.

How long? How long had he been strapped in to this thing? Days. Weeks. _Months_? Tubes and hoses in and out of every orifice he had as well as some new holes made so there was no mess, no need to waste time eating, drinking, _living_ when there was a Piece of Eden to be found.

His struggles became more frantic, throat constricting until it was even more useless than it already was, leaving him unable to give voice to his horror.

"Desmond! Desmond, stop!" Shaun demanded, his own voice on the edge of breaking.

A flashing light had all of Rebecca's attention. "We need to go! _Now_!"

Hands cradled Desmond's face. The touch of another human being was soothing- real touch, not looting someone else's memory, not the bare minimum of clinical poking and prodding that kept him as alive as long as he was _useful_.

"Listen to me," Shaun whispered gently and Desmond hung on every word. "I can't pretend to know what you've been through but you will fight this. _We_ will fight this and come out of it stronger than before." The hands that held him were shaking. "But I need you to calm down. Do you understand?"

Since it was the only thing he could do, Desmond nodded.

Without another word, Desmond was in Shaun's arms as if he weighed next to nothing. From the look of things, maybe he _did_ weigh nothing. Too weak to even hold his head up, Desmond buried his face into Shaun's shoulder like a child to keep himself from sobbing.

Rebecca had a pistol in her hand as she waited by the door and the three of them made their escape.


End file.
